


"What's your password?"

by captnalbatr0ss



Series: The Captain and his Quartermaster [8]
Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 12:41:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7802260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captnalbatr0ss/pseuds/captnalbatr0ss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rafe's working late, and Sam's looking for something to do to pass the time. The password to Rafe's iPad isn't what he would've thought it'd be.</p>
<p>Total domestic fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"What's your password?"

* * *

 

“Babe—you comin’ to bed?”

“Later.”

Sam heard Rafe’s voice, muted by the closed door of his office, and he sighed. Tapped on the door frame.

“What?”

Sam tapped again.

“Jesus, Sam. Come in already.”

Sam let himself in, moving to stand behind Rafe’s chair. “How much later?”

“Should be within the hour. Assuming  _somebody_  leaves me alone so I can finish up.” 

Rafe swiveled his chair to face Sam, and Sam grabbed the arms of the chair to stop his spin. He tugged the chair closer, and Rafe tipped his head back—he knew what was coming. Sam leaned over him in the chair, captured Rafe’s lips in a slow kiss.

“Fine. But what am I s’posed to do ’til I can do  _you_?” Sam’s lips were at Rafe’s jaw now, and headed for his earlobe.

“Mm. Do I really have to give you something to entertain yourself with?” Rafe sighed.

“Maybe.”

“I swear, Sam, living with you is like…being married and having small children. Only I just have you, and you’re even more trouble than—Sam, what are you doing? Don’t you dare—”

“What’re you talkin’ about?” Sam offered an expression of complete innocence, even as he proceeded to spin Rafe in his chair.

He reached out after the third rotation, and did his level best to keep from grinning, losing the battle as Rafe stared him down.

“That’s quite enough.” But Rafe finally let out something that Sam decided could qualify as a chuckle. “Go on. Go away. I won’t be too long.”

“A’right.” Sam took hold of Rafe’s chair once more, and tucked Rafe back at his desk.

Back in their bedroom, he threw himself down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. 

_Too early for bed. What to do, what to do…_

Finally, he rolled over, glanced at the remote— _nah_. A book— _ehh_ … And finally, Rafe’s iPad— _bingo_.

He grabbed it, swiped to unlock—

_Damn. Password._

He tried the full four digits of Rafe’s birth year, but that was a no-go. And he’d gotten in trouble twice before for trying passwords too many times and getting locked out, so he thought better of it.

He stood up, tugged his phone out of his pocket, opened his text messages.

_“rafe”_

Almost immediately, his phone lit up with Rafe’s reply— _“This isn’t what leaving me alone to finish work looks like, Sam.”_

_“question”_

_“What.”_

_“what’s your password?”_

_“To what?”_

_“ipad”_

Sam sat on the edge of the bed, knee bouncing as he waited. And waited.

_“rafe”_

_…_

_“rafe”_

Then, finally— _“Just bring it here, I’ll unlock it._ ”

_“tell me and i can do it myself”_

Soon after— _“Bring it here.”_

_“tell me”_

_…_

_“rafe”_

_…_

_“raaaaaaaafe”_

Sam chuckled when he heard Rafe yell at him from his office, a distant sound—“You’re impossible!”

_“love you too”_

_…_

_“what’s your password?”_

“Success!” Sam grinned when he saw numbers pop up on his screen—“ _0522_ ”—but as he typed them in, it hit him.

Sam set the iPad aside, hurried back to Rafe’s office, opened the door without knocking. He paused at the threshold, eyes locking on Rafe at his desk, the slight curve of his back as he leaned toward the keyboard—

_He must be cold,_  Sam thought, noticing that Rafe had tugged on one of Sam’s sweaters— _I wondered where I left that_ —and the vision of Rafe in a sweater at least a full size too big for him made Sam’s heart swell.

“Rafe.”

Rafe turned at the sound, tilting his head and looking a touch exasperated. “Now what? I gave you the—”

“Our anniversary?”

Sam’s expression was one Rafe hadn’t seen before, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. So much there; surprise, and affection, and something else. Something… _new_. 

Sam watched Rafe intently, waiting, his eyes searching Rafe’s, reading his face in a way that only he knew how.

Rafe felt the heat in his cheeks, his ears, dismayed to be blushing, but something in Sam’s eyes brought it about. And although he didn’t open his mouth, his eyes gave Sam his answer.

Sam seemed to close the distance in the space of a second, and then he was leaning down, slipping his arms around Rafe and pulling him to his feet, holding him close. Rafe’s lips parted—in surprise and because he anticipated Sam’s mouth on his, but instead Sam’s head fell to his shoulder and his grip tightened, a solid squeeze.

“—Sam?”

_What is this?_  Rafe wondered.  _What’s happening—_

It was a new kind of feeling, a different display of affection, and it stirred up something new in Rafe, as well. A sort of content anticipation. Expectation. And a strong sense of— _of what?_

_Stability._

_How strange—_

“I love you, you know that?” Sam’s eyes were shut, and he leaned back, lifted Rafe off his feet, smiling against Rafe’s shirt at the soft sound of surprise that Rafe let out.

“—I know—”

Sam spun Rafe around once before setting him back on his feet, loosening his grip, letting his hands slide up and down Rafe’s sides a few times before he finally pulled back.

“You, ah… You should really wrap up here.”

Rafe met Sam’s eyes, swallowed hard at the look in them. “I—I’ll do that.”

“Good.”

Rafe felt a tug at his heart, and in his belly as Sam’s eyes roamed, blatantly looking him up and down.

“Mm. A’right. I’ll be waiting.”

He turned on his heel, left Rafe blinking, surprised.

When Rafe sat down, faced his computer again, he found he couldn’t remember exactly what he’d been doing, or why it couldn’t wait. And all he wanted, deep down and at his core, was to go to Sam, and to hell with everything else.

He lingered a few minutes more, but he couldn’t shake the thought of Sam’s lips, his hands, and that new and pleasant tingle in his limbs. He shook his head, pushed back from his desk.

He found Sam in bed, leaning against the headboard, iPad in his lap.

“Hey,” he grinned at Rafe. “That was fast. You finish up already?”

“No,” Rafe replied, walking slowly to the bed.

“But I thought—”

“Shut up, Sam.” Rafe bit his lip, eyeing Sam.

Sam’s smile widened at the look on Rafe’s face, and once again he set the iPad aside. “Get over here.”

Rafe crawled into his arms, their lips met—soft and slow. And each touch, each press of their bodies together was laced with the promise of more. 

When Sam’s grip on Rafe tightened and they shifted, when he felt that familiar weight move over him, press insistently against him, Rafe knew he’d made the right decision. 

Work could wait until morning.


End file.
